


Rebel Rebel

by a_vaughn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Idiots in Love, M/M, i love drarry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:27:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29870538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_vaughn/pseuds/a_vaughn
Summary: Draco insists Harry should take back Sleekeezy's and Harry is not too pleased.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. Astronomy Tower

**Author's Note:**

> Happy reading.  
> Best,  
> AV

"You smoke Potter?" 

Harry coughed and spluttered on the smoke; he wasn't expecting to be disturbed. He thought the Astronomy Tower was an isolated enough place, but evidently not. Nowhere was isolated enough when you were hiding from Draco Malfoy. He was fucking everywhere: class, meals, the Eighth Year Common Room. He was always around, always _breathing_ and it was too much for Harry. It didn't help that Malfoy had been trying earnestly to strike a friendship with everyone he'd wronged over the years. Hermione and Ron had accepted his profuse apologies but it was harder for Harry to do so. Malfoy confused him, made him irrationally angry, even after all had been forgiven and was over.

"Occasionally." Harry answered curtly, inhaling deeply. God, would Malfoy leave him be? 

"Can I bum one?" 

"No."

"That's okay, I have my own." 

"Why did you ask then?" Harry said, already irritated. 

"Why not?" 

Harry did not deign to respond, just stared off into the woods. The Astronomy Tower really did have the best view of everything in the castle. He thought he caught a flurry of movement below and peered down. The bushes were shaking vigorously. Oh Merlin was that -

"Looks like Granger and Weasley are having a merry time in those bushes, doesn't it?" Malfoy said, sounding delighted at the fact that they'd just caught Hermione and Ron in an oddly compromising position, "wow, who knew Weasley was that flexible?" 

"Shut up!" Harry said loudly, running a hand through his hair and blushing furiously. It seemed like the entirety of their year had grouped off into hormone crazed pairs. First Neville and Ginny, Hannah and Luna then Dean and Seamus. Was overt sexuality an aftereffect of the war? Harry preferred the nightmares. 

"The man, the myth, the legend - a prude? Interesting." Draco was thoroughly enjoying himself, "oh, put that away, Potter," he snapped as Harry made to light another cigarette. 

"What, you're not going to tell me it'll kill me are you?" 

"No, share mine. They're far superior to your stupid store bought cigarettes. I roll them myself."

"I am _not_ sharing a cigarette with you, Malfoy." 

Harry did not think he could bear this. It was hard enough watching Malfoy smoke like a fucking angel, inhaling and exhaling delicately. He pursed his lips slightly when he exhaled. Harry thought he would explode if he had to take a cigarette from those lips. 

"Why?" 

"No."

"Why?" 

"No." 

"Why?"

"For fuck's - give it to me then." 

Draco smiled brightly and extended a pale hand out to Harry. Did his stupid wrists have to look like that? Milk pale and unblemished, dark veins running underneath. Harry snatched it and inhaled deeply. Bugger. Malfoy was right, they were far better than the crap Harry had been smoking. He would rather die than admit this so instead he just nodded a grudging thanks.

"So, back to you being a prude." Draco was like a dog with a bone. 

"I'm not a prude, ok?" Harry said hotly, "I just don't understand why everyone's been sex crazed recently. It's fun but nothing to lose your mind over." 

"You've had some bad sex then." 

"I have - I have not!" Harry was stammering now. He inhaled for something to do. This topic of conversation was making his cheeks flame and heart race. Sometimes life was surreal. One year ago, he didn't know if he'd live past 17. Now, he was smoking Draco Malfoy's cigarettes on the top of the Astronomy Tower and debating his sex life. He ran a nervous hand through his hair. 

"You need some Sleekeezy, you know that Potter? Your hair is a mess." Draco changed tack.

"Doesn't work on me." 

"What do you mean, doesn't work on you? It works on everyone. That's why it's so successful," Draco seemed to realise something, "you're Fleamont's grandson aren't you? That's why! Sleekeezy doesn't work on any of the Potter family members." 

"Er - I suppose. I don't know too much about my family, either side." Harry said quietly, almost like he didn't like admitting this. Draco could sense his discomfort; he was gripping the cigarette a little too tightly. 

"Back to you having bad sex." 

Potter's furious blush was brilliant, really. It should be painted on ceilings and portraits and every surface that could tolerate paint. 

"I have not had bad sex, I just-" 

"If you think sex isn't worth losing your mind over, you've had bad sex." Draco said firmly. It was true enough. 

"I'm not talking about this with you!" Harry exclaimed, frustrated by Draco's smugness, "piss off, Malfoy." 

"Share another cigarette with me and I will." Draco said, not waiting for a response. He put one in his mouth and lit it with a snap of his fingers. Draco inhaled deeply, handing the cigarette to Harry. Harry took it, thinking privately that Draco Malfoy shouldn't be allowed to smoke. He was unfairly attractive now, hair no longer the pompously slicked back shitshow it had been in their Third Year. It was short and hung on his forehead. He no longer buttoned his shirt up to the collar, but rather left two buttons open. Draco yanked at his tie, loosening it as he propped one leg up. Harry swallowed. Spontaneous combustion could happen right? Perhaps it was because they had been talking about bad sex, or perhaps it was because Draco was pulling at his tie with his head back, but Harry had a sudden vision of sex with -

Oh sweet Godric, no. No, he would not allow his mind to go there. Harry'd realised he was gay a long time ago, but he would not be attracted to Draco Malfoy. No. 

He hadn't realised when they'd finished the cigarette, they'd been smoking in silence. 

"I'll leave you be, Potter." Draco said, flicking the cigarette butt off the tower casually, "see you tomorrow."

"No you won't!" Harry yelled after him.

\---

Harry was absolutely not going to go back to the Astronomy Tower. No, he would end his night in the Common Room. He would read a book by the fire, drink a nice cup of tea and go straight to bed. He would not think about sex that was 'worth losing his mind over'. He would not be thinking about yanking on that green tie himself and - No. He did not need to smoke, it would kill him anyway. He was not going back no matter what. Draco Malfoy would not have the satisfaction of seeing him there tonight. 

Ten minutes later, Harry's treacherous feet were walking in the direction of the Astronomy Tower. It's just for a nightly cigarette, he told himself, knowing it was a shameless rationalisation. 

Draco Malfoy was there already, fingers tapping patiently at the railing. There was something about the way their white uniform stretched against his shoulders that pissed Harry off. He turned around when he heard Harry's footsteps and smiled brightly and it seemed like he was slightly relieved as well. Was he unsure Harry would come? Did he _care_ about Harry coming? Harry had a vivid vision of Malfoy telling him _exactly_ how much he cared about him coming and shook his head. What was wrong with him?

"I'm not here for you, you tosser. I'm here to smoke." Harry took out one of his own cigarettes, out of stubbornness. He wondered if Malfoy would offer him one of his again and hoped he would. Malfoy did him one better and vanished his cigarette. 

"Don't be daft. We know mine are better." He said, sounding matter of fact. 

"There's no we! I'm me and you're you and we are separate entities." Harry knew he was making no sense. 

" _We_ are separate entities, is it, Potter?" The blond bastard was smirking behind a cloud of smoke and Harry wondered if death by suppressed sexual attraction was possible. Not likely, or he'd be dead already. 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Draco raised his hands, seemingly compliant. They sat in silence for a while.

"Potter." 

"Don't talk." 

"Potter." 

"Fucking hell, _what?"_

"You have a short fuse. All that sexual repression and frustration from bad sex," Malfoy shook his head, pouting his full lips, "anyway, I know you don't like discussing your family but-

"Look Malfoy, it's really none of your business, ok?" Harry said shortly. 

"I know who owns Sleekeezy and it should be yours. Your grandfather invented it and he sold it off during the First War, but you're the rightful heir to his business and you should have it and if you like, we can track him down together and you can make a bid, ok?" Malfoy said quietly.

Harry stared at Malfoy. He'd felt like an alien in the Wizarding world for so long, always out of place. This reminded him he'd had roots here, they were just stolen by Voldemort. This reminded him that he belonged. It meant so much to Harry. Fuck it. 

Harry grabbed Draco's tie and kissed him. 

Draco was right, Harry had been having bad sex his whole life. 


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was meant to be a one shot, I just couldn't.

Harry was convinced he would die if Draco was naked any longer. Just drop dead. The thought of his gravestone reading ‘ ** _Here Lies Harry Potter - saviour of the Wizarding World, felled by a naked Draco Malfoy_** _’_ was an incredibly grim one.

“So, the bloke who bought up the Potter business in 79 was pretty hard to track down, actually. It was red herrings all over the place but due to my great intellectual prowess, I managed to get past the first layer of defense.” Draco boasted.

“Yeah, intellectual prowess and all that, you mind getting dressed?” Harry said irritably.

After their initial escapade in the Astronomy Tower, Harry and Draco had taken to regularly sleeping together and pointedly not addressing it. They would usually end up in Harry’s room because Ron was always out and Draco claimed Theo would take the piss. They got along with each other’s roommates quite well but still pretended not to like each other for appearance’s sake. Draco and Harry would speak as friends before and after and make casual jokes but were careful not to toe the line or ask too many questions. 

“I mind.” Draco said firmly.

“You’re violating me with your whole,” Harry gestured wildly, hating the bright red flush that rose up in his cheeks automatically.

“Wow Potter, of all the things that have violated you this evening, I don’t even think this counts as the Top 3 most offending.”Draco never blushed. It was maddening how calm he remained while Harry spluttered and stuttered 7 ways to Sunday. Harry had realised it was pointless to argue with Draco and just didn’t bother most of the time.

“Whatever, stay that way then. I don’t care.” Harry conceded, this was one of those times it was pointless to argue.

“No one’s forcing clothes on you either, Potter.”

“I actually _like_ wearing clothes because I’m a normal human being.” Harry indicated his black trousers and modest red jumper (which was doing a horrid job of covering his now blue and black neck). Draco appraised him with a quick look, eyes darkening once they fell on Harry’s neck. Draco had a weird thing for love-bites, Harry noticed. It was a pain to cover them up magically every morning but Harry never complained.

“Your neck is violating me.” Draco said simply, rummaging through Harry’s draw.

“Oi, what are you playing at? That’s private!” Harry said furiously. This did not deter Draco in the slightest.

“I’m looking for one of your shitty cigarettes. I forgot mine back in my dorm and if I go back like this,” he indicated to his messed up hair, slightly torn shirt and scratched back, “Theo will know and never let me live it down.”

“They’re not that bad.” Harry tossed him a pack, “you were saying - about some guy who bought the business in 79?”

“Right, yeah,” Draco inhaled, “so the war started before but that was when things began getting serious. Reckon that was the year your mum and dad got married. Fleamont Potter sold his business to some Rax Brown, a fake name obviously, so he could go underground and help with the war effort. He died about a year later though, killed by dragon pox.”

Draco had a tendency to stare off in the distance when he explained things, looking contemplative like he was forming the thoughts in his brain. Harry didn’t think Draco realised he did this, it was one of the few things that wasn’t a performance. He found himself quite liking the way Draco’s brows furrowed and bottom lip stuck slightly out.

“So, who is Rax Brown?” Harry asked.

Draco laughed and shook his head as though Harry was a child he indulged from time to time. “Wish I knew. I told you, red herring upon red herring. Whoever he was was smart though, set up a ton of magic security around himself. Not surprising, considering how much Sleekeezy makes.”

“This is the extent of your great intellectual prowess Malfoy? Really?” Harry snorted and settled beside him on the bed. Draco put the cigarette near Harry’s mouth, allowing him to inhale and exhale quickly.

“Remind me, how far have you gotten?” Draco retorted.

“Hey, it’s not my fault my entire family’s kicked the bucket.”

“You can’t play dead mummy and daddy every time, Potter.”

Harry wanted to laugh. It was nice that Draco never walked on eggshells around Harry and treated him like something precarious, about to shatter at any given moment.

“Sorry, let’s lighten up a bit. Wanna talk about my dead godparent then?” He joked lightly.

“We can delve into insane father territory too. Not to mention housemates with the Dark Lord territory.” Draco looked smug, sure that he had Harry beat.  
“Please. You shared a house with him, he was in my head.”

Harry won.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty time, Potter.”

“You too, Malfoy. Don’t get all weepy on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

—————

Draco left shortly after, promising to be back with more insights on who this mysterious Rax Brown was and why he bought Fleamont’s business. Harry wanted to ask him not to go, but this would violate their whole ‘not toeing the line’ rule. His dorm was always empty after Draco left and smelt of smoke and sex which just made him miss him more. Ron would have his head for smoking in the room and it was an easy enough spell to make the air fresh again but Harry didn’t bother. He liked aggravating Ron, it was funny. He was also slightly angry about Ron for being all secretive and weird lately. If he didn’t know how utterly whipped Ron was, he would’ve suspected infidelity. No, Ron wasn’t really the type.

The door creaked open to a very shaken, ashy looking Ron. The tips of his ears and nose were red, a sure sign he’d been out in the cold for too long. He didn’t even yell at Harry about the smell which is when Harry knew something was seriously, very, very wrong.

“Ron?” He asked tentatively, fearing the worst.

“I asked her to marry me, Harry.”

**Author's Note:**

> IT BOTHERS ME SO MUCH THAT PEOPLE ALWAYS FORGET HARRY IS THE SOLE HEIR TO A SUCCESSFUL POTIONS BUSINESS. BOY'S LOADED. ALSO, THIS FIC FEELS LIKE MORE THAN A ONE-SHOT. SHOULD I MAKE IT LONGER?   
> Update - I made it longer.  
> Best,  
> AV


End file.
